Letters to Peggy
by PrincessDasha
Summary: Peggy is determined to move on after Ted dropped the California bombshell on her, but he keeps sending her letters. Peggy picks up the pieces with the help of her SC&P allies, and Ted learns the hard way that he can't hide, no matter how far he runs.
1. Chapter 1

Peggy started getting the letters a few weeks after that awful Thanksgiving. She thought it was a bit strange that she would receive an envelope with the SC&P logo addressed to her own home, but she just assumed it was the formal letter confirming her promotion to assistant director of creative at the firm. She transitioned quite easily to the new position (and the generous pay raise), taking over most of Don's old accounts. She didn't even mind that the partners had brought in another man, Lou Avery, to be the director of creative. They got along quite well: he did his work, she did hers, one never finalized anything without the other, and they got things done. She didn't know him well, and he did not express any desire to get to know her on a personal level. He treated her as another executive at a busy Madison Avenue advertising agency, and she liked that just fine.

Peggy opened the envelope, thinking about where she could put up the framed letter in her apartment, just to remind herself that her career success was all real. She glanced at the page, and her stomach lurched when she saw the familiar scrawl.

* * *

_Dear Peggy, _

_I had to write to you because I really regret how we left things between us. I'm 3000 miles away from you, and yet I think about you every day, about what we both want but can't have. It's been very tough for me to get settled in her in California, not knowing whether you could forgive me for leaving. _

_I know I hurt you, but I hope you understand that I did what I thought was best for you and me. I really, really want to be with you, but I can't destroy my family, and I can't stand the thought of other people thinking of you as the home wrecker. You have such a good heart – that's one of the reasons why I fell in love with you. And I know that deep down, you wouldn't want me to ruin those lives, especially the boys._

_I love you so much, and no amount of distance can ever change that. My heart aches so much, being away from you, but trust me – it's better this way. Think about it – now that I'm in California, you've finally gotten the real promotion you deserve, and no one can accuse you of having slept your way to your success. Your career can really flourish, without you having to live in my shadow. That's a nice silver lining, isn't it?_

_Please, Peggy, I hope that you can forgive me, and find some love in your heart for me. _

_Love always, _

_Ted_

* * *

"Go to Hell, Ted Chaough," Peggy growled, tearing up the page into tiny pieces. Ted's betray stung, and for a few days after Ted left, she had berated herself for ever believing that things might work out with her former boss. But, as with every other setback in her love life, she soon pushed aside the hurt and devoted all her energy to her work. With her new responsibilities at the firm she was too busy to dwell on the damage Ted inflicted on her. Now, with one simple sheet of paper, Ted brought back all the feelings of hurt, betrayal and anger.

Peggy stomped across the living room to her liquor cabinet, yanking her bottle of whiskey out and slamming the cabinet door shut. She poured herself a glass and drank it in one single gulp. Her chest heaving from breathing so rapidly, she grabbed her phone and dialed. She barely heard a ringtone before the call was picked up.

"Nan, I told you I was working late today," Peggy heard Ted's exasperated voice on the other end of the line. "The more you call, the longer it's going to take for me to come home."

Peggy tightened her grip on the receiver. "How DARE you!" she shouted, hands trembling.

"Peggy?" Ted's voice sounded like a whimper.

"Are you that stupid to think that a LETTER would somehow magically make me feel better? Huh?" Peggy hissed.

"Listen, I thought-"

"No, YOU listen," Peggy interrupted. "Don't you dare pull that righteous martyr bullshit on me, and don't you dare guilt trip me into accepting your so-called apology or forgiving you, because I can see right through it all."

"Please Peggy, I love you. You know I didn't want to hurt you. Can't you hear me out?" Ted quivered.

"Shut up!" Peggy said emphatically. "You don't get to pin this back on me, and you don't get to take the moral high ground. Not when you're the one who kissed me in the office. You're the one who decided to wait at my doorstep when you should have been home. You're the one who decided that your marriage wasn't working, and you're the one who decided to leave your wife before you had really thought things through. You're one who decided to run away instead of face the consequences. Don was right about you. You're not that virtuous, you're just a coward. I'm tired of you making decisions for me and then leaving me to deal with it. You know what? _I've_ decided that I'm done with you forever, and someday, _you'll _be glad I made this decision. Deal with it." Before Ted could even respond, she slammed the phone down and pulled the phone cord out of the wall.

Peggy collapsed onto the couch in her living room, hot tears streaming down her eyes. This was the first time she cried after learning about Ted's departure, the first time she had really let herself feel the full brunt of her own anguish, and it felt oddly cathartic. She picked up her orange tabby cat and nuzzled her chin against his head.

"Oh, Zeus," Peggy whispered, "You're the only man I need in my life."


	2. Chapter 2

The second letter arrived at the office the day before Christmas Eve. Peggy was going through the afternoon routine of opening her mail, and absentmindedly opened an envelope with a Los Angeles post mark that had no return address.

* * *

_Merry Christmas, my dear Peggy._

_The holidays are upon us. It should be a happy time of the year, yet my heart is burdened by the last conversation we had. I want so desperately for us to bury the hatchet and get some closure. I know that you're still angry with me, but I want you to know that I'll still be thinking of you through the holidays. I really did mean it, you know, when I said I wanted to go to Hawaii with you for Christmas. I just wish that things were different so that we can actually go. _

_I've really missed you. I remember how excited you were last year around this time, when you were busy working on the Koss account. It breathtaking to watch you come up with such a brilliant campaign when everyone else was already mentally checked out. The transition to the L.A. office has really tough without your brilliance to keep me on my toes. These freelancers we have for now just aren't that bright. I miss being able to trade ideas with you. I hate that we can't even talk to each other on the phone. I've been trying to get a hold of you the last two weeks. How is it possible that every time I call you're at a client meeting? Getting your second opinion by messages through Phyllis just isn't the same. _

_Peggy, we shared so many beautiful moments together before all this happened. Can't we just hold on to those memories?_

_ Love, _

_Ted _

* * *

Peggy's hands shook as she read the last lines. Her head began to throb immediately. She dropped her head to her desk as a whirling, weightless sensation overtook her. Images of herself lying on a sandy beach next to Ted inundated her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on taking deep breaths, as if to will away the unwanted images. It's not fair, she thought to herself. Just when she thought she was done with him for good, he just had to re-emerge in her thoughts like a malignant cancer.

Two soft knocks on her door brought Peggy back to reality. "Come in," Peggy said, lifting her head from her desk.

The door creaked open and Phyllis poked her head inside. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your nap. I'm leaving in about an hour. Do you have any last minute errands for me before I leave for the Christmas break?"

Peggy blinked several times, trying to process her surroundings. She glanced around the office, her eyes landing on her pen and notepad on her desk. She grabbed the items and scribbled.

_Peggy Olson away from office, December 23 to January 3. No need to consult on accounts. Direct urgent messages to Lou Avery. _

"No, I was just about to head out myself," Peggy said, regaining her composure. "Could you please send this memo out to Ted and everyone else at the California office? You're free to go once you get that done. Merry Christmas, Phyllis." She tore off the top sheet from her notepad and met her secretary at the door. She grabbed her coat, hat and purse off the coat rack.

Phyllis looked down at the paper and smiled. "Oh, I didn't know you were going on vacation! That's so exciting! Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but Hawaii," she quipped as she stepped out of her office.

* * *

Peggy, of course, did not go anywhere on vacation. Spending Christmas Eve with her mother and sister was not an option. She had not been on speaking terms with her mother ever since she decided to cohabitate with Abe, and things had only gotten worse once they broke up. She had grown tired of the endless I-told-you-so lectures from her mother, and she couldn't bear the thought of being set up on another horrible date with one of her brother-in-law's boorish accountant friends. That was how Peggy found herself sitting in her office on Christmas Eve, looking out the window at the gentle snowfall while trying to come up with ideas to market Avon products on national television.

"Earth to Peggy!" Stan's sing-song voice interrupted her reverie. Peggy swung around in her chair and found Stan perched on the edge of her desk. She let out an involuntary laugh at the sight of her bearded friend. He was wearing the most ghastly looking green sweater that had a giant snowman embroidered on the front. The sight was even more comical, given that the sweater was a size or two too small on Stan's robust frame.

"Hey, don't laugh at my sweater!" Stan huffed. "My Aunt Mae made it for my cousin, and since he's now six feet under, she decided that I'd inherit it. It took me ten minutes to even get this thing on this morning."

"Sorry," Peggy gasped, stifling a giggle. "I didn't know. What are you doing here?"

"Huh. I was about to ask you the same. I forgot my weed and had to come back for it," he said, holding up a small black pouch. "Don't tell me you're working. I thought all the accounts were up to speed?"

"Nah, I'm not quite satisfied with the Avon TV campaign yet," Peggy shook her head. "Mathis is hopeless at this."

Stan threw up his hands. "Go home!" he admonished. "It's two o'clock on Christmas Eve!"

"You can't tell me what to do," Peggy smirked. "I'm your boss now, remember?"

"You're such a smug bitch," Stan retorted jokingly. "Of course I know. You've only reminded, what, a million times since you got your promotion. But today's not a work day so the boss-underling thing ain't gonna fly with me. Come on, get your things. We're leaving."

"No, Stan," Peggy said determinedly. "I really have a lot of work to do."

Stan glanced down at her waste basket, where a torn piece of paper and a California post-marked envelope protruded. "Ah, I get it. This is about him, isn't it? That from him?" He gestured at the waste basket.

Peggy wrinkled her brow. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied agitatedly.

"Come on, I can read you like a book. This is about Ted Chaough, isn't it?" Stan said, his voice softening a little.

Peggy stared at her hands.

"Look, I'm not stupid. Let me give you a quick recap of what I noticed in the last six months: you two are all flirty-flirty, then Don shits on your little love fest, and then there's enough tension to tow the Titanic out of the bottom of the Atlantic. Meanwhile, your dresses get tighter and shorter – love that ass, by the way – and then boom, out of the blue Don the California Dream Stealer gives Chaough what should have been _my_ spot on the L.A. Express. So, I'm guessing that Mr. Groovy Turtleneck gave you some bullcrap about leaving that wife of his, did the nasty deed with you, and then ran away with his tail between his legs because he's too much of a pussy to deal with it. But hey, what do I know? I'm just the dumb stoner who draws your posters." He hopped off the desk and said down in the chair across from Peggy, staring at her with a look of dismay.

Peggy stared back, her mouth gaping. She drew a breath to speak, but then shut her mouth and turned abruptly away.

Stan scooted around the desk so that he was facing Peggy again. "Listen," he said gently. "I know he meant a lot to you, and I'm sorry that he left you just like that. The weasel is just lucky I'm not going to L.A., because I'd beat his ass for pulling something like that on you. But-" he paused, kneeled in front of Peggy and took her hand. "A wise woman once told me that you can't numb the pain with booze, drugs or sex. And you can't do it by working yourself to death either. So I'm thinking maybe that this wise woman should take her own advice?" He stood up and winked.

Peggy squirmed in her seat, not wanting to meet his gaze. She was shocked by his brutal honesty, and his words hit close to home. This was a side of her colleague she didn't get to see very often, and she wasn't sure how to respond.

"So how 'bout it?" Stan said cheerfully. "Come with me to Aunt Mae's. It's her first Christmas without her boy, and she'd love the extra company. Besides, she's cooked enough food to feed a small to medium-sized army, and she makes one hell of a sweet potato pie. I promise I'll behave, and I promise she won't ask any awkward questions about whether we're dating. Though I have to warn you, I'm pretty sure she thinks you're a lesbian."

Peggy launched an eraser at him. "All right already, I'll go, I'll go. But I swear, if you don't shut up I'm going to smack you."


	3. Chapter 3

Ted glanced at his watch. Ten o'clock. He glanced at the thick folder sitting on his desk, which contained everything his creative team had concocted for the Sunkist campaign in the last 24 hours. He had been at the office for over twelve hours, and his head throbbed from pouring over notes from his last awkward meeting with his extremely demanding client. He eyed the door, which seemed to be begging him to walk through it.

"The work must go on," Ted sighed as he picked up the folder and moved towards the couch. He flopped down, leaning his head on one of the arm rests, and began sifting through the papers in the folder.

He scanned the first page, and immediately crumpled it up and threw it in his waste basket. He did the same with the second, third and fourth sheets.

"Garbage! All of it!" He muttered. He stretched and rubbed his eyes. He wondered whether Peggy would laugh or cry at these atrocious ideas. Peggy probably would have sketched out an entire campaign by now, in the time it took for his team of three copywriters to come up with these ridiculous tag lines. Damn it, he thought, if only Peggy were here.

As if on cue, the door swung open Peggy sauntered in. "I think you need to consult an expert," she announced cheerfully.

Ted sat upright and wheezed. He eyed Peggy head to toe. She was wearing an orange chiffron dress that fell just a few inches above her knees. The cut of the fabric accentuated the curves in her body perfectly, and he could swear that her face lit up the room a few more watts.

"P-Peggy," he stuttered. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Peggy smiled, her eyes sparking with mischief. "Cutler sent me here. He says you're in dire need of some creative genius.' Consider me a temporary loan from the New York office."

Ted furrowed his brows. "But, but I never said anything to- Never mind. I could really use the help. But you're really okay with this, considering, uh, what happened between us? You're not mad at me anymore?"

Peggy sat down next to the couch. "It's okay, Ted," Peggy said warmly. "I understand. You had to do what you thought was best. Who was I to get in the way of that? I've made my peace with it."

Ted breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, because I was beginning to think that you hate me."

"Hate you?" Peggy let out a boisterous laugh. "No, I could never do that. Besides," she said flirtatiously, "I was kinda flattered you found me so irresistible that you had to run to the other side of the country. Anyway, I meant what I said before."

Ted shot her a puzzled glance. "Excuse me?"

Peggy grabbed his hands and stared straight into his eyes. "I…can…wait." She whispered slowly and deliberately, her face edging closer to his with each word.

Their lips met, and Ted pulled Peggy towards his body, wrapping his arms around her back and waist. His mouth enveloped her lips as he kissed her passionately, fervently, and desperately. He kicked the pile of papers off the couch and pulled Peggy underneath him. His one hand frisked up and down her legs while his other hand darted frantically to the zipper at the back of her dress.

Suddenly, the sharp shrill of Nan's voice reverberated in his office. "Ted!"

Ted and Peggy froze.

"Ted! Wake up! Come on!"

Ted jolted himself awake, and realized that he was not in his office, but at home. Peggy was not there, but Nan.

"It's Frankie," Nan said urgently, "he has a very high fever and he's got this rash all over him. I think he might have measles. Quick, you have to drive him to the hospital."

Ted got dressed in lightning speed and rushed his son to the hospital. He sat with his wife in the hospital waiting room, neither daring to speak. As minutes turned to hours with still no word from the doctors, Ted's anxiety about his son's condition quickly turned to guilt. Guilt that while his wife was tending to his gravely ill son, he was dreaming about a sexual encounter with a young copy writer he had vowed to get away from at all costs. Guilt that even though he had put three thousand miles between him and Peggy, she still invaded his every thought. Guilt that even though Nan was a good wife and mother, she was not enough. Guilt that in spite of fifteen years of marriage, he simply could not love Nan.

Measles turned out to be just a scare. Both the boys had received the measles vaccine as soon as it became available a few years ago, and the doctor reassured the Chaoughs that their kids were safe from the disease. Frankie just happened to be one of the rare people who got the chicken pox twice in his young life. With the knowledge that his child was fine, Ted took his wife and son home, tucked them both into bed, and snuck quietly back to his office.

The office was still deserted at shortly after five in the morning. Ted sat at his desk and flipped the desk lamp on. He pulled a piece of paper and a pen from his drawer and began writing.

* * *

_Dear Peggy,_

_I dreamed about you last night. You were so beautiful and radiant, though you're even more so in person. You were just so vivid in my dream, and I just can't help but think about you all the time. The reality of life that made me leave New York also woke me up from that dream. But, god, how I wished that dream were real. I am convinced that we are true soulmates, and that if we wish for it hard enough, fate will one day bring us back together. When that day comes, I promise I will make it up to you a thousand times over. I promise I will do right by you. Until then, will you wait for me?_

_Love,_

_Ted_

* * *

On a cold January night, Peggy stared at an envelope in her hands. Another SC&P envelope with a California post mark had arrived at her house. She turned it over, ready to tear it open, but then stopped. She shook her head, and threw the letter unopened into her roaring fireplace.


End file.
